


Jamie isn't my name

by Colamiilk



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Child Junkrat, M/M, Memory Loss, Roadhog comes later, Sad, hurt children, serious topics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-18 16:35:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8168653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colamiilk/pseuds/Colamiilk
Summary: /I’m Jamison Fawkes, I’m 4 years old and have serious memory problems. My mother's name was Lori, my brothers name was Andrew. My birthday is july 28th. I’ve forgotten these things, so i’ve written them down so i won’t lose them./





	1. From the rubble

“...Mom?”

There was so much, a weight pressing every part of you closer to the ground. You felt a warm wetness, but you couldn’t process what it was. What, What had happened to you? You were so tired, and the rubble above you felt like a blanket. You breathed in the dust of your house, getting it stuck within your blood filled mouth.

It was bright suddenly; and then loud. It was just a buzz of people, blurry and moving in front of your hazy eyes. Hands were grabbing for you, trying to skim your clothes, your hair, anything. Yanking you out with a force that should’ve been painful, they held you like a limp ragdoll before stuffing you in the back of a car with tons of other dying children. None of you could so much as shift; you didn’t know where you were going, you didn’t care.

\--

It was bright here, you were pulled away from the other children. Left on a cot; everything was frantic around you, it made your head hurt. Hands pressed down on you and you felt a sting on your left leg, it didn’t bother you all that much, you felt to foggy to feel pain. The sting became a burn and grew stronger and stronger. Your thigh hurt, you shifted slightly only to be pushed back down. 

Your face felt wet, you realized belatedly that they wiped down your face. Wiping off some of the blood and dust. 

“...omnic…..blown….can’t…..death” trying to make sense of the words felt pointless everything was slipping away. 

\--

“Jamie, how do you feel?” Jamie, right. That was him wasn’t it, he scratched his stumps and looked pointedly away. They told him his mom had died, that once he was stable they couldn’t help him anymore, no there wasn’t any food for him, that their sorry. 

They asked how old he was, he said he thinks he’s 4 but he can’t remember. They told him that he’d never have a good memory, that his concussion permanently messed up his head. 

“Jamie, you have to leave today. We’re sorry we can’t take care of you longer. Please take this, and don’t lose it.” He looked down at it in sorrow using his small knowledge of reading to try and decipher it.

/I’m Jamison Fawkes, I’m 4 years old and have serious memory problems. My mother's name was Lori, my brothers name was Andrew. My birthday is july 28th. I’ve forgotten these things, so i’ve written them down so i won’t lose them./  
But he couldn’t understand what it said.


	2. the name you've given me

“Hey mate! What’s your name then? It's only normal to tell me if you’re gonna be my bodyguard!” He smiled widely looking at the enforcer who just tried to take his life, like many before. A thick gravelly voice gruffly responded.

“Roadhog.” Sharp laughter pierced the air and he nodded exaggeratedly smiling crazily. Silence passed for a second with roadhog staring at him expectantly. 

“What is it mate? Can’t look away from my amazingly good looks?” He couldn’t see the man’s face but from the body language he would guess he’s rolling his eyes. 

“Aren’t you going to say yours?” pausing slightly, he paused no one had asked him that. 

“Uh oh course, course mate!” moving into silence again he tried to remember his name. 

“J-Jun,,,” Jun? That rang some bell, was that it? No there was more, it was longer than that. 

“Are you thinking of junker?” He was laughing the bastard. 

“No! It's Junk, something though.. Junk..” oh he remembered!

“Junkrat! That’s my name mate, be grateful! You’re the first one to know that in who knows how long!” He remembered being called a rat at his first job back when he couldn’t even sit on chairs since they were too high up. Roadhog didn’t move for a long period of time, his soulless mask covered eyes staring into his skin. 

“Ok boss,,”

\---

A small piece of paper fluttered out of Junkrat’s ratty bag. Something that was practically connected to the kid since hog’s met him. Picking it up he turned it in his hands, it was nice for any kind of paper found in the outback. Even crumpled, yellowed and torn was rare. A few spots of blood specked it and countless dirt stains. 

“Eh, Rat what's this?” he spun around fast enough to break his neck and looked in interest.

“Paper? Hell if i know, just dump it.” Waving Hog off as if he just said he had to take a dump, he skipped back on ahead. Roadhog went to drop it but paused. For someone like Junkrat to have paper for so long, even though he couldn’t read, it must have been important. Roadhog wasn’t one for sentimental shit, but dumping something like this, even not knowing what it was made him feel sick. 

Slipping on huge finger into the fold he opened it slowly, in was written in child’s script with constant misspellings. He read over it, and then again. 

Folding it back up he pretended he never had read it. But that didn’t stop him from placing it in the pocket in his mask he used for important things. 

 

Junkrat had fallen asleep in his lap, this guy was insane and annoying. A constant pain in the neck, but he couldn’t help wonder about Junkrat as a kid, a normal kid, a kid who lost everything. It was hard to believe Junkrat was ever a kid, it felt like he spawned into being at 25. Maybe he just didn’t want to think about a kid growing up somewhere like oz. 

No, Roadhog shaked the thoughts out of his head. Roadhog in no way cared about what was written on that paper or what had happened to Junkrat in the past. That didn’t stop the voice in his head from whispering “You mean Jamison.” 

He felt sick, to have forgotten his own name. Something he had been trying to do, forget who he was, and in front of him was someone who didn’t even know he had a family. To forget everything, like Junkrat had, is it really what he wanted? The kid seemed happy enough, but that kind of thought didn’t sit well with him. 

“I wonder, did they call you Jamie? Did you get along with your brother?” Roadhog knew that neither of them would ever know.

**Author's Note:**

> Who wants to cry with me?  
> fyi i know this is short, they'll get longer  
> Playlist for this story; http://8tracks.com/colamiilk/junk


End file.
